Getting lost inside the decaying mind of a science-fiction novelist isn't the same as getting lost, a critical distinction missed in Matthew Wilder's whirligig "Your Name Here."
Getting lost inside the decaying mind of a science-fiction novelist isn’t the same as getting lost, a critical distinction missed in Matthew Wilder’s whirligig “Your Name Here.” With Bill Pullman as a fictionalized version of Philip K. Dick, pic superficially touches on David Lynchian down-the-rabbit-hole territory, but flubs an opportunity for a full-bore B-movie romp in a series of overextended, flat episodes. Cocksureness of the pic’s culty profile hardly guarantees in-crowd, hipster action at fests and beyond, even with the spectacle of Traci Lords in multiple roles.
On the verge of completing his magnum opus during 1974’s Fourth of July weekend, author William J. Frick (Pullman) is distracted by his screaming ex Julie (Lords), worried agent (Richard Riehle), the tax man (Dave Sheridan) and memories of his stillborn sister. Too much stress-relieving medication sends Frick hurtling into a fantasy world of escalating nonsense, some of it enticingly accented with Watergate-era paranoia care of the perennially masterful M. Emmet Walsh as a Nixon man. Former theater director Wilder lets too many scenes run on, and on.